


Really Unprofessional

by inlittlestars (silvernatasha)



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvernatasha/pseuds/inlittlestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any time Clint Barton walked into the room, the temperature seemed rise a couple of degrees, which was the last thing Darcy needed right now. Taking a cold shower shot straight to the top of her to-do list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Unprofessional

**Author's Note:**

> Written using the prompt of 'melting' for Darcy Lewis Smut Week on Tumblr.

Darcy's iced tea was more ice than tea by the time she had finished making her drink. She took a gulp, the liquid cold enough to make her teeth ache, then pressed the tall glass first against her forehead, then her cleavage.

She let out a long sigh. That was bliss. Icy, sadly temporary, bliss.

Air conditioning would be awesome right about now, but Jane's lab was sadly lacking, and so Darcy felt as though she was going to melt into a puddle.

Taking another gulp of ice tea, Darcy opened her mouth wide enough to take an ice cube into her mouth, holding it on her tongue. She'd never had a cold shower before, but right now she was seriously considering it.

"Well, you look like you're overdressed."

If Darcy hadn't had her mouth full of ice, she would have groaned. Why did _he_ have to show up when she was already feeling like there was an inferno in the vicinity? Any time Clint Barton walked into the room, the temperature seemed rise a couple of degrees, which was the last thing Darcy needed right now. Taking a cold shower shot straight to the top of her to-do list.

"Says you," she grumbled around the ice. He was always wearing too many clothes, in her opinion. The SHIELD agent always hanging around - sometimes literally from the ceiling. He was bored, he said, and nothing ever happened around here. She'd only been able to snap, "Welcome to my world," and thrown his Nerf dart back at him.

Today, Darcy was wearing a cotton sundress patterned with red and orange flowers. It was the third outfit she'd tried on that morning, having dismissed the first two as soon as she'd finished dressing as she'd immediately felt constricted by too much fabric.

And right now she was feeling just as stifled. The way he was looking at her made her chest tighten as though the air had been squeezed out of her lungs. She quickly took another drink.

"Foster's still not back from her field trip," Barton said helpfully.

"Conference," Darcy corrected automatically. She'd been the one to plan the trip and knew Jane's travel plans inside out. "And I really don't need a babysitter."

He gestured at Jane's computers, a succinct motion. "But they do."

Darcy didn't want to dwell on that. She wasn't worth protecting, but Jane's data was. It was kind of depressing, really.

Also, did he have to use his arms so much? Because they were _right there_ , so temptingly exposed. Darcy had never bitten anyone in her life, but she kind of wanted to bite his biceps.

Absently, she pressed her drink to her chest, expelling a hot breath. She needed to go and lie down.

Maybe in a dark room.

While somehow not thinking about Barton's beautiful biceps.

"Did you just say beautiful biceps?" he asked, smirking as he nudged her on his way to the kitchenette.

Darcy's eyes widened. Shit. She'd been talking aloud.

"No," she said quickly. "Beautiful, er, bison. I like bison." She nodded sagely. "Majestic animals."

"Mm."

She couldn't take her eyes off him as he fixed himself a glass of water, dropping ice cubes in one by one. "Alright there, Lewis?" he asked. He smiled. "You seem a little... dazed." He dropped in another ice cube. "Maybe I should get you to bed."

She squeaked.

"Didn't quite catch that," he said impishly. Taking a long drink of water, he then licked his lips.

Darcy pushed her glasses up, knowing as she did so that they would just slip down again. "You're being really unprofessional."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, Lewis. You haven't seen me when I'm being _really_ unprofessional."

She'd set that one up for him, she realised. "So you're actually flirting with me?" she asked, throat tight. Unconsciously, she held her glass a little lower on her chest.

"Thought you had a degree. Has it taken you this long to figure it out?"

"I didn't think you were. Except then I did. Only I thought you were just teasing. And I wasn't sure if I wanted you to be flirting."

He moved closer, glass still in one hand. Voice dangerously low, he asked, "Are you sure yet?"

She swallowed. "Um. Yes."

He rolled his eyes, but Darcy barely noticed. His body heat was intense this close. "Sure that you want me to be flirting or sure that you don't want me flirting?"

Darcy licked her lips, trying to force herself to concentrate on the question at hand because right now there was only one thing she was sure about: he smelled really good.

"The first one," she decided.

"Good," he breathed, plucking her ice tea from her hand and setting it on the counter, along with his water.

Then, he was kissing her and she was clutching at his arms and smudging her glasses and not caring a whit about breathing anymore. Why would you care about something as silly as that when there was kissing to be done?

Besides, that was what noses were for. The human body was a wonderful thing. Especially his.

Darcy had joked with Jane that Barton had an allergy to sleeves, but now she was exceedingly glad of that fact. His firm muscles flexed under her fingers as she kissed him back with all that she had, body pressed flush to his.

One of his hands cupped the side of her face, the other on her hip until it started to move up her side. Feeling a very different sort of heat now, Darcy made a sound of appreciation into the kiss. Barton toyed with the thick strap of her sundress, fingers slipping under to trace her bra over the curve of her shoulder.

Yeah, he was right. She was overdressed. So was he, actually; Darcy started to tug at his vest, eager to seek out more skin.

His mouth pulled away from hers, but rather than breaking contact completely, he pressed kisses down the length of her neck, stroking damp tendrils of hair away.

"You'd better not give me a hickey," Darcy gasped, her hands sliding up the muscled expanse of his back until his vest was bunched together.

Now, he pulled back, grinning slyly. "Give me more credit than that," he told her, proceeding to pull off his top and toss it away. Noticing the way she was staring, eyes dark with desire, glanced down at himself, then back to her with the grin still on his lips. His hands made quick work of slipping her straps from her shoulders, the top of her dress gathering at the waist as he pushed it down.

A flash of self-consciousness went through Darcy. She hadn't planned on being seduced today and with the weather so hellishly hot, she had gone for comfort over style when choosing her bra.

Oh. Well, it didn't really matter if he was going to remove it in a matter of seconds.

Instead of his hands going straight for her breasts, he surprised her, hands resting gently on her waist as he kissed her again. Her eyes fluttered closed. As he held her close, Darcy's chest pressed against his torso, her nipples tightening further.

His tongue teased hers, hands wandering. Darcy heard a noise she couldn't place, but she realised what it was a moment later when he touched an ice cube to her breast. Darcy gasped, shifting so that her back was pressed against the edge of the counter. She watched, lips parted, as he traced the cube around one nipple, shivering at the sensation. Torturous and glorious at the same time, Darcy wasn't sure if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted to use that ice in more intimate places.

Her head swam with tempting possibilities, but Barton seemed to have ideas of his own. He drew the ice across her pale skin, dipping between her breasts and then trailing in a slow spiral up over the neglected breast, centring in on her hard nipple.

She expelled a shaky breath. "You're going to kill me," she said, pressing her thighs together and head tipping back a little. He kissed her exposed throat, the faintest trace of stubble on his chin tickling her.

"No," he promised, "I'm not."

Sure that her nipples couldn't get any harder, Darcy licked her lips. She swatted his hand away; Barton tossed the ice cube over his shoulder to land squarely in the sink.

His lips caught hers in a messy kiss, knocking her glasses slightly askew. Barton slid his hands up her thighs and Darcy decided that he was some kind of underwear ninja because hers were down around her ankles before she could even register that he'd touched them.

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

Feeling her brain start to work a little more, Darcy fumbled with the zipper on his pants. She could only raise her eyebrows when he pressed a condom into her hand. "You came prepared."

"Yeah, I'm a regular Boy Scout," he said gruffly as she rolled it on, her fingers trembling.

He demonstrated how well he could put his muscles to use, hands grasping her thighs and lifting her enough to press into her. Darcy made a keening noise in her throat, gripping his shoulders hard. "Oh, my... fuck," she ground out, pressing against him as he rocked firmly into her slick heat.

Barton gave a grunt of agreement.

Every thrust seemed to hit the perfect spot, despite the counter digging into her back. She knew from the coiling heat low inside her, though, that this wouldn't be a problem for much longer.

Darcy wrapped one leg around him, encouraging him closer as all her muscles seemed to tighten. Trying to urge that feeling on, she clenched herself around his hard length and felt him expel a hot breath against her neck.

With a precise touch of his fingers to her clit, the rising tension broke with an intense rush of heat as she came hard, knuckles turning white and her short nails pressing into his shoulders. She didn't release her grip until he'd gone over the crest with her a few thrusts later.

"Jane's not back until tomorrow," Darcy said, once her breathing had calmed enough, Barton still buried comfortably in her.

"Mm?"

Darcy let her head fall forward until their foreheads were pressed together, damp skin sticking. "So we're gonna need more ice."


End file.
